Nove Licentia Pelagius
by AliceRoseSwan
Summary: Nova is 19 and locked away in a dungeon for her father's teachings when her old friend Arthur comes and saves her. What shall become of her?DISCONTINUED If anyone wants it, it's theirs.
1. Chapter 1

The priests call me "the devil's daughter" they never refer to me by my name, which in my opinion would be much simpler as it is quite a bit shorter, but oh well. I laugh at this which I suppose only encourages them to inflict more pain but being called the child of the devil is simply to humorous a situation to not laugh. For I am in no way related to the devil, I'm not even a distant cousin. My eyes contribute much to their belief of my "relation," they are so deeply brown that the black center almost blends with its surroundings.

I also suppose, to them, my father would be the devil for they are all condemned by his teachings. After he was excommunicated I was sent here. Well not here exactly, the dungeons came later, but here as in my godmother Fulcina and her vile husband Marius's estate.

For a short while I was treated with the respect that my "title"-I say it like this because I abhor being put above others-deserves. But when Marius received word that my father had been assassinated I was locked away here, in this torture pit, my father's teachings inadvertently damning me as well. Not that I resent my father in any way. Quite the opposite in fact. I believe he succeeded as both a philosopher and father in more ways than any dare to hope. I love him deeply, and even now, months after receiving word of his death the pain still twists my heart. He never once complained of my sex, which too many Roman men is considered inferior, or of his lack of sons, leaving no one to carry on the family name. He raised me as an equal, teaching me not only of domestic duties, but all of the things a child of any gender learns. I learned of maps, and history, and politics and gained a deep love of the free country I had once hoped Rome could become.

I suspect that my father knew all along that his teachings would be met with hostility for I was also taught to fight. The bow came easily to me; I gained a thorough understanding of it in a matter of weeks. The sword however was a different matter. It took me three years of practice to win a single sparring match with my instructor. But now, five years after that fateful match I can handle almost any weapon thrown my way. These skills have saved my life on many an occasion. Not that I take any joy in killing, I have only ever done so in self defense. But I expect that one day, should I ever leave this dungeon I will be called on to protect people I love. I would rip off the priests heads right now for torturing poor Lucan but after I nearly decapitated one of the guests Marius was showing his "playroom" to I am always chained to a wall or stone table.

Guinevere has been, as of recently, the most frequent visitor of the playroom. While I pity her I cannot help but distrust her. She seems to believe she is above all this. As though she could leave at any time but is waiting for something to happen, or for someone to arrive.

Lucan enjoys hearing my stories. His favorite is of when Marius dragged me to the dungeon. I managed to head-butt him in the nose and broke it. I was punished, severely, my first taste of Roman torture. But I would do it all again, if only to see the small smile of gratification that touched my godmother's lovely face. She fought so hard for me and the bruises she received for her disobedience were no longer hidden by her clothes where no one could see them. Her cheek had a large purple bruise marring it. But still that small smile made her beautiful because for that small instant in her long marriage to that swine I believe she truly felt free, powerful. She had been told her whole life that men like Marius were better than her, stronger, and here was her 19-year-old goddaughter breaking his nose.

Alecto and she snuck food to us whenever they could so I have not lost too substantial an amount of weight. Guinevere, who arrived a few weeks after I is skinnier, but then she was skinny when they brought her in so I don't worry too much. I give my food to Lucan whenever I can. I feel connected to him, neither of us has any parents, so I look after him.

I think often of my life before the corruptness of Rome became obvious in my eyes. I have little memories of my young childhood, but I know I was a troublemaker and I know that my father loved me all the more for it. If I remember correctly Arthur was always my favorite target. Before he left when I was five, him 19, he was a constant in our home. My father was his. Father even went so far as to name Arthur my guardian should anything happen to him. The only reason I even went to Fulcina was because it had been decided that Arthur would not want me. I personally believe that is a load of rubbish and they just don't wasn't him to know my father is dead.

I used to love sitting in his lap while he would tell me great stories of the Sarmatian knights, the same knights that I here he now leads. I did not seem him often after he left for his post. Only twice more before the excommunication, when I was 9 and 11. He seemed to have aged a lot during his absence but still had the time, and love, to tell me of his new adventures. Thankfully leaving out the gore and killing, sparing my innocent mind.

I imagine Arthur probably still thinks of me as that little 11 year old sitting on his lap. I was always rather tiny, often mistaken as years younger than I actually was. But know I have grown into my age, perhaps beyond it. The gore and killing in his stories would hardly cause he to bat an eye. I have seen it, I have experienced it. I can only hope that my father is watching over me, as I am certain he is in heaven, and will lead someone to rescue us, for I don't know that we will survive much longer. My name is Nova Pelagius and this is my story.


	2. Impish smiles

The guards are restless. They know something of the outside world, but of course they do not feel up to sharing. The only information I have been able to overhear is that there are plans to permanently shut us into this prison, isn't that exciting? Lucan's arm was broken in their torture of him yesterday. In retaliation I managed to kick one of the priests in his privates. That ought to teach them a lesson about hurting defenseless little boys.

I keep having dreams of my father. In them he is telling me that I will be free soon. He says that Arthur will save me, will protect me. But I cannot believe these dreams. The longer I am in here, the more hope I lose. I fear the only thing that can free me now is death. The torture has gotten worse in the last few days. All of the fingers of my left hand are dislocated, and I think my shoulder is as well. If I am to die I wish it would happen soon.

* * *

Alecto came to me yesterday, he read to me from a book as the priests slept. It is rather amazing that his father has not yet corrupted his mind. He knows that Rome has strayed from the word of our God and is setting its own path. He says it will take a miracle to set them straight. I tell him that he could be that miracle one day.

He did bring me news of the outside world though. It seems that Saxons are invading and Rome is sending an army to rescue him and his family. He believes that the army will bring my freedom. I told him not to get his hopes up. If the army is loyal to Rome our chances of getting out of this dungeon are still slim. He had to leave after that for the guards awoke and if he were caught there is no telling of what Marius would do to him.

* * *

This morning I awoke to shouting. I know not what it is for it is not the normal shouts of the guards or village people. I both worry and hope that it is the Saxons. If it is they will kill us quicker than the Romans, because all though the Saxons are renowned for being ruthless, they do not waste time in killing their enemy.

The wall to our prison is being broken down. I can hear the stones being bludgeoned. The door is being kicked in as well. Whoever it is probably now has a very sore foot.

The voices sound strange, not Saxon, but a mix of Roman and…Sarmation? That is odd. It couldn't be, could it? I hear one of the men shout "Arthur!" My hope is alive once again. I cannot cry out for help though. My throat is to dry. And I cannot crawl out of the shadows to be seen, I am too weak.

I look out the cage I am in and meet a pair of dark eyes, darker even than my own. He does not speak, but breaks the chains to my cage and comes in. I shrink back into the wall. He may seem friendly, but so have many who intend me harm. He slowly walks toward me. Much like a man cornering a frightened animal, I think sardonically in my head.

It is strange the thoughts one can afford to have when being rescued. I did not think once of my injuries, or my father, or of anything else. All I could think of was this man. His hair was unruly, braids off to the side in an attempt, I suppose, to keep it out of his face. He has a tribal tattoo on his right cheek. Definitely Sarmatian. His armor is a mix of old Sarmatia and modern Rome. He's in front of me now, kneeling down at my level. I look him in the eyes, no longer afraid. He takes my face in his hands and scrutinizes me. I see his brow furrow. Which I must say is an odd thing, for he does not seem the type of man to allow his emotions to show on his face. Quietly I hear him murmur "you are Roman" it is not a question, so I do not answer.

I can see a large man lifting Lucan out of his cage. I attempt to go out to him. What if that man hurts him? My rescuer holds me back. "He is fine." I look into his eyes and see only truth. He scoops my up into his arms. A pose that normally I would have been entirely opposed to but in my weakened state must put up with. On our way out I see _Him_, Arthur. I faintly smile, but do not draw his attention to me. He will realize soon enough that I am here. Or maybe he won't. As I said I have changed much since the last time he saw me.

The sunlight, although dimmed by the clouds, burns my eyes. My rescuer lays me down on the ground while he orders blankets and water be brought. Fulcina sees me and runs over. I am overjoyed to see her. She wraps her arms around me, cradling me in her arms. She helps to sit me up while one of the other knights, not my rescuer, helps me to take a drink. My rescuer has ridden off. I choke on the water a bit.

I see Arthur leaving the cave now, carrying Guinevere. He orders water for her as well. He looks over to me and meets my eyes. For a moment I think I can see a flash of recognition but then it passes and his attention is back on Guinevere. I look around and see the giant knight tending to Lucan. I finally relax, everything will be alright now. My final vision of the outside world as I faint in exhaustion is of Marius rushing toward Arthur.

* * *

When I awake I see my godmother tending to Lucan. I smile; she looks so at peace here with the giant man. I slowly sit up, the pain has lessoned after sleeping on a cushioned surface. I see Guinevere huddled in a corner, clutching her fingers. I gently smile at her and she returns it.

Fulcina notices I am awake and rushes over to tend to me. She tells me that I have several bones that will need to be reset and my shoulder will need to be pushed back into place. I agree to allow Dagonet to do it. But just as he moves to get me a piece of leather to bite into Arthur enters the caravan. His eyes lock with mine and again I could swear I saw a hint of recognition. He had been headed toward Guinevere but now redirected his path toward me.

"Tristan, the knight who rescued you, tells me that you are Roman." I wince a little. We're going to need to work on his tact a little I see. I smile at him gently but do not answer him. He scowls and I struggle to not let my smile deepen. Annoying him has always been my favorite sport. "Well, Lady, are you?" Fulcina answers for me. Until that moment I do not believe he even knew she was there. "Yes she is Roman. My goddaughter actually. After her father was excommunicated and killed my husband locked her in the dungeon." I can see the tears gathering in her eyes but before I can assure her that it is in no way her fault she goes to tend to Lucan as he cries out. I turn back to Arthur who is eying me with sympathy. I scowl at him and say, "I assure you Sir Knight that I do _not_ need your sympathy." He looks at me shocked and I can see as another piece of the puzzle falls into place for him. Still thought he does not realize who I am. He shakes it off though and resets my fingers and shoulder for me. I barely cry out at either. Not like Guinevere's rather pathetic whimpering.

I decide to leave the cart while Fulcina is distracted. It is rather cold outside but walking around is a luxury I have not been allowed in months. I hear the sound of a horse behind me and turn to see my rescuer-Tristan- behind me. He raises an eyebrow at me as if to ask whether I should be out of the cart. I smile impishly at him. He does not smile back but I swear I saw his lips twitch. He offers me his hand and tugs me up in front of him on his horse. This, I decide is even better than walking. I love riding. I don't know what has become of my horse, Liberty.

We ride for a little while in silence, both of us content. But I suppose he has been given the task of finding out who I am for his questions have begun. "Who are you?" being the first. I sigh; I suppose the quiet has ended.

"My name," I begun a bit hoarsely, as I have not spoken properly in months, "is Nova Pelagius." I fell him give a start under me. "Arthur's Pelagius?" He questions. I nod, "Is my father." He contemplates that for a few minutes. "Why were you there?"

Ahh, so begins the first of what I imagine will be many tellings of my little sob story. "Well first things first, judging by your reaction no one here has been informed yet of my father's fate. He was excommunicated and killed over a year ago. When he learned of what was to become of him he sent me to live with Fulcina, my godmother. I was supposed to go to Arthur, but well, I didn't. When Marius learned that my father had been killed he locked me up. Cina, my godmother, did everything she could to help me, and now here you are." He remained silent after I finished.

"You must tell Arthur." He told me a few minutes later. "He doesn't yet know who you are, you must tell him everything." I nodded. "I was planning on waiting until we camp so that he might have a little time to recover from the information." He grunted in approval of this plan and dropped me back off at the cart. I glared at him, not ready to be trapped again, and this time he smiled impishly. "You need your rest." I stuck my tongue out at him and climbed into the cart. I heard him laughing as he rode off.

A little while later it was announced that we were camping for the night. Before I could leave to find Arthur though, Cina stopped me and told me to bathe. I agree and soon I looked like myself again. There, now maybe Arthur will recognize me. I stepped out of the tent and walked toward the fire where I was the knights gathered. Tristan saw me coming. I could see his shock, though he tried to hide it. I do look quite different now, more lady less beast. I winked at him and plopped myself down onto Arthur's lap, just like when I was young. Arthur looked at me, dumbfounded, until I said, "Well Artie dear, we have a lot of catching up to do." Finally all the pieces in his mind fit together and his jaw dropped open. But before he could say anything Marius walked over.


End file.
